Menswear Apocalypse

Up until twenty years ago, when the word menswear came up the most common visual brought to mind were very well-groomed guys in suits, safari jackets and houndstooth slacks. Slacks, slacks, slacks, a real menswear word. Repeat after me: Haggar, Jantzen, Bally.

The pantheon of male fashion was Playboy, Esquire and GQ Magazines, manly graveyards of stiff, stodgy non-style. Every fabric was of a barfy earth tone, and on the opposite end of the spectrum when Miami Vice was the rage, colors were so alarmingly explosive, it was impossible to wear something with a modicum of modesty.

And then something funny happened: designers began taking notice of what rock musicians were wearing and incorporated this influence in their designs. Clothes looked more rock & roll in design and colors became freer, not Technicolor goofy as in the past, but tasteful.

With the advent of designers as diverse as Commes Des Garcons, Paul Smith and a few others, menswear became as challenging and as exciting as women’s fashions. Choices in menswear became more diverse, and consequently there is now a larger market with men making these choices, rather than enlisting their girlfriends to make them.

While female models were getting younger and thinner than ever, the whole Paul Newman/Sean Connery looking model was slowly getting weeded out in favor of a new male counterpart. Models like Andrej Pejic, Paul Boche and Cole Mohr were now getting major editorials and runway work, garnering huge followings in the process.

New exciting menswear magazines began popping up like Another Man, V Man, Essential Homme, Numero Homme, Fantastic Man and too many more to mention. These exciting new models could be seen in all of the aforementioned magazines.

As I stated in a previous blog title, “Once Rock Stars Looked Like Models, Now Models Look Like Rock Stars”, and the posted pictures bear this revelation out. Most of the models shown here (Erik Andersson, Dylan Fosket, Val Bird, Jaco Van den Hoven and Karl Byrne) could easily be in a rock band and garner a huge following.

What’s the significance of this? Well, once upon a time rock music was all about the packaging of a band, with cool hair and clothes being an important component. With that in mind, menswear designers have been employing the same strategy to sell fashion to young men, launching bombshells of hard rocking visuals as potent as the first New York Dolls album cover or a Supergrass CD.

The end result is that men of all ages and persuasions can enjoy fashion like they never have before, looking cool without having their girlfriends to run the show for them. This is truly Men’s Liberation at its finest, and everybody wins.

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Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the late, great Craig Lee, my former comrade in punk rock noise. One of my earliest memories was when he and Alice Bag approached me about joining The Bags on saxophone. I was flattered, but I didn’t really think there was a place for me in their band; it seemed pretty complete to me. I went to see them perform at The Whiskey A Go-Go just to see if I could mentally place myself in their songs.

Craig played good punk guitar and he did this odd Harpo Marx routine as he played, making these cross eyed wild Harpo Marx expressions. It wasn’t that weird if you think about it, because around that time Ron Mael was doing a Charlie Chaplin thing in Sparks and Rick Nielsen was exhuming Huntz Hall in Cheap Trick, so Craig was probably getting into the whole slapstick rock look.

At any rate The Bags were tearing it up, but I just couldn’t hear my squalling saxophone fighting itself through their sonic skronk. As a side note, my horn playing is very loud in general and many singers have a major chore singing over my sax playing, so it would have been a constant battle, anyway. Unfortunately they took my rejection personally, which wasn’t the intention, but I ended up playing with old Craig a few years later.

In 1980 I played in a band he put together called The Boneheads which also sported a gaggle of scenesters including Robert Lopez of The Zeros (aka El Vez) and Elissa Bello of The Go-Gos. It wasn’t a band that took itself too seriously, which I really enjoyed. We sounded like a cross between The Contortions and The B-52’s, very Alphabet City + downtown New York. Craig wrote most of the material, sang a lot and I thought he did a great job.

I ran off a little while later to play with someone else, but I saw Craig again nine years later at a show. It would be the last time I would ever see him, and he was unnaturally friendly - he had a tendency to be abrasive with me in the past. I didn’t know that he had medical problems, so I had no idea he was so close to leaving us.

He said the funniest thing to me. “Andy, you know, you really ought to be a writer. That’s your true calling. That’s what you really should be doing. I bet you’d be so good at it”.
Looking back, not only do I now agree with him, but there’s a touch of clairvoyance in that remark that only the dying can see. I’ve never forgotten that advice and I have even more difficulty forgetting Craig after giving me that message. That’s a send-off message I will take to the grave with me.

Smell Check 2014

Welcome to the 2014 edition of Smell Check, my annual overview of mens' cologne faves and farces, Normally I publish my annoying opinions around the Christmas shopping season but this year I decided to do it around Valentine's Day, where it would do the most good. Many of the scents listed in this blog are guaranteed to drive your girlfriend, boyfriend, or pet camel wild with ecstasy. This I promise!

Mugler A*Men Pure Malt (Thierry Mugler): Boy, do the brothers love this one, and if you don't believe me check out the countless reviews on You Tube of this impetuous cologne. With a bizarre black rubber casing and the iconic Mugler Angel symbol standing out there's no mistaking this cologne with any other.

The story as it's been told is that this is the only cologne that's aged in toasted oak barrels over a period of six weeks like aged whiskey. Because the process is so unique it's currently available as a limited edition scent, and from what I understand it made two other limited appearances in the past ten years. I got the last bottle at Nordstrom's Hollywood so this is a hot ticket item.

What does it smell like? Well, it's a lot like Angel for Men mixed with some great expensive Scotch. Works for me!

Polo Red (Ralph Lauren): Not bad, a little bit better than his other efforts. This one boasts the ingredients of redwood, red saffron (!) and grapefruit. A little spicier than what you'd normally expect from Lauren so it gets a C.

Uomo (Zegna): I don't know if this will make you "the master of all your adventures" (some advertising slogan!) but it has a burnt woodsy smell to it, like you've been sitting around a campfire whittling wood or sitting by the fireplace wishing there was a girl sitting next to you. If you love the smell of lumber yards you'll pine for this one, birch! (ouch)

L'Eau D'Issey Pour Homme Sport (Issey Miyake): I'm not reviewing the cologne but the body wash, yup, I'm cheating, but this is a good one and well worth your dough. It's got a bright, bubblegum candy scent that'll hide more BO than Fort Knox. The "notes" aka cologne ingredients include Florida Grapefruit, Bergamot, Vetiver from Haiti (what's that?), Indonesian Nutmeg, Virginan Cedarwood, and Ambergris, which might be whale vomit. Dig in!

Tom Ford Noir (Tom Ford): If there's a designer more arrogant and egotistical than Tom Ford he hasn't arrived yet. Ford may be the most vile figure in modern fashion today, so it almost hurts me to admit that his newest men's cologne is a clear winner.

With all the notes thrown into this one you just can't miss: Bergamot Oil, Verbena, Violet Flower, Caraway Oil, Baie Rose, Bulgarian Rose, Geranium Oil, Tuscan Iris Resinoid, Styrax Oil, Black Pepper Oil, Nutmeg, Clary Sage, Patchouli Oil, Vetiver (um, yeah, that again but is it from Haiti?), Leather, Benzoin, Vanilla, Opoponax, Amber Civet. Is that all?

Needless to say Mr. Wonderful's image graces all the cologne counters ensuring quick sales of this great scent, looking resplendent in his permanently etched five o'clock shadow, forest-like weave obscuring his receding hairline and permanently taciturn expression on his face. He's saying fuck you if you don't buy this. This time I'm going to have to agree with him!

So, Valentine's Day is comin' playa so get your cologne juice on.

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Almost simultaneously two leading menswear designers have issued a line of classic rock collections: John Varvatos interpretation of Jimi Hendrix's "closet" and Paul Smith's Autumn Winter 2014 Jim Morrison collection. Both collections are weird and awkward.

Varvatos' Hendrix styles include the iconic military jacket and stumpy boots with loose, delicate shirts. While there's nothing awful about it the full effect looks dated and uncommercial (as in "who's gonna buy this stuff?"). Frankly I saw it all before at Granny Takes A Trip in 1974 and it was done better then.

Paul Smith's take on Jim Morrison is ironic, to say the least, as it was presented in Paris, the city the rock icon died in. I also think Jim Morrison was one of the worst dressed rock stars of his generation, always seen in a shlubby Mexican wedding shirt and not much else. A small percentage of the clothes look like something The Lizard King would wear, tenty caftan tops and leather pants, but then there are incongruous things Morrison never wore (glittery jackets, Arabic scarves, etc.).

While it's a given that rock music and fashion have inspired each other for decades, both tributes almost have that Project Runway "I'm gonna get sent home" vibe about them because neither collection brings anything new or exciting to the table. And that's what's necessary to bring people in to spend their money. Too much rock and not enough frock.

"Paul Smith: Gentleman Designer"

To be perfectly honest the world of menswear hasn’t seen too many designers of utter genius. Rei Kawakubo (Comme Des Garcons) and Burberry immediately come to mind, Kenneth Cole comes close, but for the most part the most brilliant work has been largely reserved for women’s fashions. Then there’s the work of Sir Paul Smith, letting us in on what makes him tick in a recent French television documentary. Every thing he says and does in this doc can serve as a valuable lesson in fashion design.

Originally from the town of Nottingham, Paul Smith opened a boutique with his future wife Pauline, a fashion student from the Royal College of Art. She pretty much steered him in the right path of design, which helped build his name by combining vintage British tailoring with colorful and occasionally flamboyant fabrics, lining choices, notions and unique finishing. Because he started with average, white shirting material, he decided that the only way to stand out from the pack was by jazzing up the finishing and implementing unconventional colored buttoning, never forgetting his trademark multicolored stripes emblem, looking like some unholy psychedelic bar code. The Paul Smith approach from Day One was to continue the tradition of British tailoring with enough weird tweaks to keep it new and eccentric.

Shown in his Covent Garden office with thousands of books, toys and swatch boards surrounding his desk, Smith works in his headquarters on 20 Kean Street, a five-story building which also houses his assistant designers, art and marketing staff. Smith even takes time out to goof off with his vintage Mr. Machine toy – I’ve got one, too! Anyway, he’s shortly seen conducting an office meeting with designers and managers about the focus and concept of his new line, using of course vintage rock album covers. But dig the bizarre choices!

Example Number One are photographs of Sixties era Frank Zappa(!) wearing an occasional suit, looking smart and dapper, but not without Smith mentioning that Zappa also wore a gorilla-fur coat. The point being made is that in Rock & Roll smart tailoring goes hand in hand with the unexpected. His head designer Simon steps up and shows custom printed textiles influenced by album cover art.

Example Number Two is The Stone Poneys, Linda Ronstadt’s pre-solo folk band with Smith pointing out cool folk-rock style, mixing vintage beatnik with then current acid rock looks as a target design. This style at the time consisted of heavy coats, tight striped pants and furry hats, a style best popularized by John Philips of The Mamas and The Papas, among others.

Example Number Three, if it wasn’t weird enough, is Kraftwerk and the Kraut Rock look in general. Kraftwerk's tailored and dapper looks from "The Man Machine" and "Trans-Europe Express" are held up as examples of clean lines and fine-line tailoring. The bottom line, Rock & Roll has always been about style and fashion. My blog title last year said it all: “Once Rock Stars Looked Like Models But Now Models Look Like Rock Stars”.

Coming from most designers, the whole R&R fashion rigmarole would sound like so much chin music – John Varvatos, great fan that he is, can get tiresome with his fandom, but Smith is the real deal. Smith talks about his youth in Notting Hill, sleeping on floors with legendary blues musicians like Zoot Money and Grahame Bond.

British rock style in the Sixties, Sir Paul explains, put a twist on traditional British dandyism by incorporating women’s fabrics for men’s tailoring at bespoke tailors on Savile Row. As a result, sometimes bands were ripped off by the tailors when they used old curtain fabric rather than real material, passing it off as psychedelic enough to be cool. Smith proudly shows off designs he made for bands like Led Zeppelin (trousers for Jimmy Page!) and Pink Floyd.

Not above clowning around in front of the camera and or his staff, Smith even advises his Paris Fashion Week models (including Andrej Pejic and a frightened-looking Miles McMillan) that it’s okay to look happy and even smile when walking down the runway. The down to earth attitude about fashion includes modeling, where it’s stressed that models need to look interesting rather than gorgeousperfect.

A designer as celebrated as Paul Smith could very easily just rest on his laurels and take himself seriously like less-successful designers (he has 200 stores in Japan alone), but what makes Smith so cool is his restless search for inspiration and lack of propriety in an art and industry increasingly ceremonial to the point of atrophy. In this regard, Smith might very well be one of the most Rock & Roll designers in an industry rampant with imposters.